


the blood of the dark side runs through your veins

by artsyspikedhair



Series: you are not who they think you are, for to them you are okay [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Body Image, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Lowercase, POV Second Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Repressed Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 10:30:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8158969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsyspikedhair/pseuds/artsyspikedhair
Summary: you are not good, and you are not easy.





	

you are not good, and you are not easy. you were good, once. back when voldemort was a war away and your biggest worry was putting your elbow in the butter dish around the boy who lived. you were never easy, never the dresses and butterfly girl your mother wanted. but you were a girl, and to her, that was enough. to the rest of the world though, quidditch is only for girls until your knees get dirty. hexes are only for girls to use to impress boys, not to fight them with. 

but you had to learn how to fight, because you couldn't back in first year. in first year, voldemort was a war away, but tom was dark curly penmanship and secrets spilled into the night. in first year, your memory stopped working, and you were found in the chamber of secrets. 

memories have a funny way of coming back once the danger is over. your brain took no time, once tom-no, voldemort- was no longer covering you in rooster feathers and blood. you spent much of the summer in bed, trying to make sense of the haze of memories. most of them were bodily: tom's hands on your shoulders, tom's breath on your neck, tom's- tom inside - tom hurting you, a sharp pain in your bum. you began to have panic attacks, but suffered in silence, scared of getting sent to a Mind Healer that your family obviously couldn't afford. you had other memories too, of the chamber floor. you were also startled to discover you could now speak parseltongue. needless to say, the summer was not fun for you, even without a crazed murderer on the loose. 

and you had fears about sirius black too, because if you could befriend the dark lord and not know it, what else were you capable of? second year, girls began developing, and you were terrified. you didn't want to have a body that was so curved, so large. (in the back of your mind, you just didn't want to be able to be grabbed easily, which seemed to be all the curves were good for. you didn't want the other girls to be either, didn't want them to suffer what you did, but as they giggled about boys, you found yourself wishing for their innocence.) 

you didn't send harry that valentine in his third year. you really didn't. draco just pinned the blame on you, but there was no way you were ever going to love a boy again. (secretly, you suspect draco pinned the valentine on you to hide his own fancy for harry's arse, but nobody ever asked what you thought, always assuming it was ginny, the head of the potter fanclub.) you found comfort in the form of the library, and madam pince was surpirsingly nice. there there were books on what was happening to you. you weren't going bonkers. the memories were real. you were just traumatized, as the muggle books say. 

**Author's Note:**

> my repressed memories have been coming back. ginny weasley is the fictional character i have chosen to project my trauma onto. i hope y'all like it.


End file.
